Mirror, Mirror
by Chut Up Bushes
Summary: A family moves into a house in Nova Scotia only to discover that its going to tear them apart. A beautiful mirror ventures into their minds to make them see their deepest fears...
1. Prologue

Prologue:

It was an old country home. Though most people seemed not to believe it at first. When you turn onto the road leading up to it, you find yourself climbing, winding, through old, bent trees shadowing the path. You can see the hills for miles when you look up, the big red tower at the top of the largest hill. And then, suddenly, there's a set of four mail boxes, and before you realize it, you've missed the turnoff. You have to turn around, and right there is that little street sign, a wooden slat, hanging off an old, nearly invisible post. You have to make a sharp turn into the narrow street, and you start driving down the old pavement. You see houses. Houses sitting, tucked into their neat little corners. This seems like a normal street, you say to yourself, I thought this was an old country home. And then you look up. You look up and you see this house. This big, paint-peeling house. It's right up there, on the hill. You keep driving and the pavement turns to gravel, crunching under the tires. There you are, driving up the street, which is now at a steep incline, and twisting through the trees. And when the incline stops, you expect to keep driving. But no. You stop. Because the house is right in front of you, the road melded into the driveway. The biggest house on the street, it is definitely a country home. You can see for miles from the hill. But there's no lead-up to it. It's overwhelming. It's magnificent. Then you get this fear. This deep, welling, fear that rises within you. And you don't want to be on the top of the hill looking down at the other houses. You want to be down there, looking up. But it's too late. You're already there.


	2. Chapter 1: The House on the Hill

Chapter 1 - The House on the Hill

Kahlen felt that the minute the car's front tires passed over the border of Canada, she needed a sweater. Goosebumps crawled over her skin, but the real reason for that was most likely because of her reluctance. She had lived in Ohio for seven years of her life, and in Connecticut for thirty-one. It wasn't like it never snowed in Connecticut or Ohio, but Canada - was different. Every time someone said "Canada", Kahlen immediately thought of moose, washrooms, saying "aboot", "soorry", and "eh" after every sentence. Then when Greer had told her he read about an excellent country home online, she was ecstatic. Kahlen and Greer had been looking for a new house, anywhere but Connecticut. But Kahlen herself was thinking along the lines of a nice, quaint home in one of those mid-states. So when Kahlen asked Greer where the lovely home he found was, you could imagine her reaction when Greer spat out the words "Nova Scotia" to her. At first it had been immediate shock, refusal. That night, however, as Kahlen lay in bed, she thought of all the pluses of Canada. No one hated the Canadians, for example. If Canada _had _a military they had never had to use it before. And Canadians are cheerier, right? With their rosy cheeks and funny expressions. French labels instead of Spanish. But Kahlen wasn't convinced. Until she saw the picture of the house online. When she saw that home, Kahlen had no further complaints about Canada. That home was meant for them, she could feel it. Then again she could also feel the deep Canadian weather seeping through the windows of the car.

Blair was forced to watch the car moving along the wet, glistening pavement. She was shoved up against the window, her niece and nephew fighting over something that started two hours ago. Jay was in the middle, poking her in the ribs and it didn't help that Bridgette was punching him every now and then. That added Jay's squeal factor to Blair's reasons never to sit in the back seat with them again. Her sister seemed totally unaware of the mess, sitting up in the passenger seat, staring out the window. Greer was too focused on peering through the windshield, rain pelting it. Blair already felt awkward and they hadn't even arrived at the house yet. It felt weird depending on her sister to house her. But it was a chance for her and Kahlen to get reacquainted. In a way, she was glad that she couldn't afford her own apartment back in Connecticut. It gave her a reason to tag along with her sister and her family. To forget about what happened. Blair took her gaze from the road to the line of trees, spotting a sign scribbled in cursive. It read, "Welcome to Antigonish" . My new home, Blair thought.

The rain had cleared up by the time they were at the town center of Antigonish. The sun attempted peeking through the clouds, but only managed to cast a dim glow upon the town. Both Jay and Bridgette crowded to the window. They were passing Main Street. Jay unbuckled his seat belt and shoved Bridgette over.

"Jay!" She snarled, punching him in the arm. The skinny street was lined with small buildings on each side. Bridgette scanned the titles she could, reading "Video Rental Store" and "Breakfast and Coffee House". She wanted to read more, but the car turned the corner, Main Street out of sight.

"There was our Town Center!" Greer cheerfully exclaimed from the front seat, peering at the kids through the rearview mirror. "Jay, buckle up." He pestered. Bridgette recoiled from the window, wrinkling her nose.

"Mom, he cannot be serious!" She complained to Kahlen, not wanting to get into an argument with her father. The last time that had happened, her cell phone was taken away. Her mother, on the other hand, was easy to bend.

Kahlen turned around in her seat, drilling her eyes into Bridgette's as a warning glance. "Bridgette, Antigonish is a quaint little town. You'll love it, I promise. Especially when you see the house." Kahlen faced the front of the car again, glancing in the side mirror just in time to see the exasperated expression on her daughter's face.

The car began driving at much of an incline, trees leaning over them like a covered path. From the front of the car, both Greer and Kahlen could see mountains splayed in front of their eyes, just hills and hills of nothing but trees, a red tower nestled among them, sticking out like a sore thumb in the thick forest of naked trees. Kahlen glanced out Greer's window just in time to see a set of four black mailboxes posted awkwardly at the beginning of a narrow road. It was when Greer sped past it that Kahlen realized this was the right road to turn on.

"Greer! I think we just missed it!" Greer grunted, slamming his foot on the brake. Jay was tossed forward, the seat belt across his chest yanking him back.

"See?" Greer said to his son, cranking his head around. He began backing up the car, the tires moving roughly over the old pavement. "That's why you where a seat belt."

Jay rolled his eyes as Greer halted the car at the start of the mail boxes.

"Sure this is it?" He questioned Kahlen, who nodded. Greer brought his eyes to Blair. She glanced down quickly, nervous of his penetrating, cold blue eyes. "What's it say on that sheet of yours, Blair?" Greer referred to the information the dealer had sent them. Blair bent down, bringing her bag from her feet to her lap. She rifled through it quickly, pulling out a slightly crumpled piece of paper. Her brown eyes slid back and forth across the paper until she found what she was looking for.

"Um, it says… four black mailboxes. And, an old metal post with a wooden street sign hanging off of it. You won't be able to read it, but you can still see the white "B" painted on it." Blair looked up from the paper to find Greer peering out the window.

"Yep, this is it." Greer confirmed, turning the wheel of the car to the left. As the car turned, Blair spotted the old black metal post. Her eyes followed the climbing vines upward a rotted, wooden slat. A faded, but evident "B" was etched on it. She took her gaze from it as the car continued down the road. Small white, blue, and brown houses sat on big patches of Canadian grass. A dog was chasing its tale in one yard. A man mowing his lawn looked up at them, squinting through the windows of the car. He lifted up a hand and waved. For some reason, Blair shook her hand back at him, but took it down quickly. She glanced around the car, but no one else had noticed. Jay, studying his new street from Bridgette's window, sat back in his own seat.

"I thought you said this was a country house, Mom. This looks like any plain old suburban neighborhood to me."

"And why do you sound so discouraged when you say that?" Bridgette snapped back at him. "I don't know about you, freak, but I'd like to have a _normal _life." Jay sighed at this. His sister was fifteen, and himself twelve. Not only was there a three year age difference causing them conflict, but they were completely different people. Jay was overjoyed when he learned his family was moving into an old country home in Canada. It meant a new start. He didn't like his life back in Connecticut. He felt he didn't really fit in in school, he was more creative than the other kids. They didn't seem to respect that. From the moment Jay saw the picture of the house, he knew he would love it there. He could sit on the winding front porch for hours, just his laptop and him. Bridgette was so different. She looked in the side mirror to check her hair and makeup just about eight hundred times during the trip here, and all she did was text her friends. She wanted to be an actress, wanted a city life, wanted to be around tons of boys she could flirt with. Because of Bridgette, Jay was disgusted at any mini-skirted, purse-toting, makeup-checking girl he saw. And some of them could be perfectly nice. But his sister ruined his image of all girls similar to her. Jay felt odd sometimes, when he looked at those girls and stereotyped them. Because he knew that when someone saw him, with his wavy hair, stubby "pig's" nose and jeans that weren't showing everyone his boxers, he was probably stereotyped, too. And it probably wasn't a good stereotype, either.

The pavement under them morphed into gravel as the car began a ascent into the trees. The road winded around the woods, and the family could feel themselves rising. Suddenly, though, the trees unveiled them and they were under the clear, cloudy sky again.

Greer pressed his foot onto the brake and the car came to an abrupt halt. Blair, Jay and Bridgette crowded to the front of the car, peering out the windshield. Greer could do nothing but stare, and Kahlen's chin dropped to the floor. Somehow, the house had seemed to grow, to change since the couple first were hit with amazement at the first picture they'd seen. Now it was like a blow to the stomach. None of them could say anything, none of them could breath. There was just a still silence that hung in the air, seeming to speak for all of them. Blair took the initiative to open her door. She stood up, her legs sore from sitting for a while. It felt like the soles of her boots sank to the bottom of the gravel driveway. With heavy feet, she stumbled to the front of the house. Jay and Bridgette followed, running. Greer, unable to release his tight grip on the steering wheel, stayed glued to his seat, his wife along side him. They stared at the house. The tall, Victorian house. A porch was in the front, they could see. And where they were, at the side, they could observe all the eloquently placed terraces and the color of the deep maroon siding. Beautiful twelve paned windows were sprawled across the house, and, on the left of them, a deep terrain of forest and brush. Greer and Kahlen glanced at each other briefly, and, simultaneously, scrambled from the car to join their children and Blair. Bridgette, Jay, and Blair stood in front of the house with their hands on their hips, overwhelmed. A large front porch took up the entire front, four rocking chairs and a big bench that swung from the ceiling of the porch. An alcove drove your eyes to the door, and if you were lucky enough, your eyes would drive upwards, too. Then you would see the French doors at the second floor, an ivory white railing marking the balcony. Greer and Kahlen stood next to the three, suddenly, and the family turned around. Turned around and were struck breathless again. The house overlooked the others and the center of town. The house was on it's own hill. Greer felt proud to be standing on that hill, because it was _his _house. His family's house. The house that everyone in town is jealous of. Kahlen didn't even know the emotion that was going through her right now, she was so ecstatic. This is what she had needed all her life. Is a house like this, a place like this. She had to break the silence. She screamed.


	3. Chapter 2: Discovery

Chapter 2 - Discovery

Blair turned to her sister, startled. Kahlen seemed surprised at herself, or at least at the sudden noise that was released from her mouth.

"I'm sorry. I'm just so… excited!" Kahlen exclaimed gleefully. She clasped her hands together, flexing her fingers. Greer stared at her with a blank expression on his face as a wide, bright smile burst across Kahlen's face. "What's wrong with you people?!" She shouted to them jokingly, skimming over the frightened faces of her family with her eyes. "Don't expect to see me happy?!" Kahlen backed up so that she was a few inches away from the house, spreading her arms out dramatically. "This is OUR house!" She screamed. "Ours!" Kahlen laughed joyfully at the thought and fell into the grass, sighing.

Blair let out a giggle at her sister's giddiness as Bridgette raised her eyebrows questioningly. Folding her arms, she leaned closer to her father.

"If she's going to be like _this _all the time, I say we go back to Connecticut." Bridgette whispered to Greer. Her father laughed, taking it as a joke and ruffling her hair. She immediately smoothed it down. But part of Bridgette was serious. Her mother was always tired from that stupid job of hers that she would come home from work at six, make dinner, complain about it, eat it, go to bed, and do the same thing the next day. She was not used to seeing her mother being a happy fairy prancing through fields of grain, sprinkling her pixie dust over unfortunate passers and blinding people with her sparkling white smile.

"Your mother's right." Greer announced, joining Kahlen to stand in front of the house. It seemed so big compared to the two small people, it looked as if it would leap out and engulf them. "This is an amazing house. I bet everyone in Antigonish is jealous of it." Greer stated, widening his blue eyes and looking from Bridgette to Jay to Blair. Bridgette examined her nails, tapping her foot on the dirt. Blair searched the area around them, her eyes lingering on the woods. Her face read blank. Jay, however, when he caught his father's eyes, smiled broadly, a grin identical to the one that was currently set on Kahlen's face. Greer thought that they the family most likely looked pretty unconventional to someone passing by. He took the liberty of removing a beat-up brown wallet from his pocket. Digging into the folds of the wallet, Greer's fingers emerged with a small brass key tucked between them. He turned to face the house. "Shall we?" He voiced. "This key doesn't work for the front door, so we'll have to go by the side." Greer started around the side of the house. Jay bounded from his spot, leaping in stride next to his mother and father while Blair and Bridgette followed almost reluctantly, their heels slightly dragging along the ground.

Jay reached the side door first, which was also had a small, modern looking enclosed porch. It seemed like it was built much after the original house, looking slightly awkward and out of place. Greer and Kahlen joined them, and, as Jay looked back, he realized that Bridgette and Blair had just rounded the corner. Jay watched, his stomach churning with anticipation, as Greer slowly slid the key into the lock and turned it. A _click _echoed as Jay reached forward for the knob. He turned it, the brass feeling cold in his hand. He looked back before pushing the it open, noticing the anticipation in his mother's eyes. Jay laid his palm against the wood door and gave it a shove. It swung open with a long, groaning creak. Jay paused for a second, unsure of what to do. But his feet told him by scurrying up the stone steps and planting themselves on the floor of the porch. His parents eagerly crowded in after him. Bridgette and Blair took their time, filing into the porch one by one.

As Blair glanced around the space which the entire family stood bunched up in, she realized that what she had first thought was simply a porch was actually an entryway, or a mudroom. She spotted a washer and dryer through an open doorway to the left of her. Another door stood in front of them. It was pure white, with a little green-tinted glass window which provided them a dim glance inside. Blair observed that she probably didn't seem the most eager, so, to show her gratitude, stepped past her family and pushed open the door. Everyone immediately poked their heads through the doorway to have a peek and all seemed to realize at the exact same time that they could actually _enter_ the house. At this thought, the family pushed and shoved their way through the door, including Bridgette, who was now provoked to explore her new home.

Kahlen couldn't help but gawk when she entered the house. The ceilings must have been at least twenty feet high. The draft pushing through the open space caused a chill to creep up her spine. She shivered, glancing around.

They were at the back of the house where they stood now. Kahlen could see a large kitchen to the right of them, a dining room style table set in the middle of it. Her feet began willing her forward, the old wood beneath her feet complaining with a groan as she stepped over it. The first room on her left looked to be a small study. A black leather chair had been abandoned, propped in the corner facing towards the shelves of dusty books. A small square window provided a dim cast of sunlight over the room. Kahlen continued to wander down the wide hallway, accompanied by a large staircase to the left of her. She was about to meander into the next room, which provided a preview of itself by casting long shadows of the bay windows into the hallway, when someone told her to stop. It took Kahlen a couple of seconds to pause and realize that no human voice had actually told her to stop, but it was rather an instinct. So Kahlen ceased her walking and stood [quite unevenly on the creaking wood floor. An odd silence then filled her head, spreading to the hallway around her. It was the same silence as when it snowed and you went outside to watch the white flakes cascade down to hit the ground. When the only thing you could hear is the _drip _of icicles falling from branches and the little _patter _when the snowflakes struck your coat. The silence ended when the thing whispered to her mind to look up. It was at this moment when the choices in Kahlen's life started to be made for her. If she had to choose, Kahlen could have decided to ignore the strange murmur and keep walking to explore the rest of her home. But she had no choice now. Life had her by the puppet strings, and the strings pulled her head up to stare at the beautiful, cascading balcony overlooking the house and sharing the view of a crystal chandelier. The puppet strings willed her feet forward, rising to the first step of the broad staircase. The strings curled her fingers around the painted wood railing and raised her feet from step to step. A draft whirled around her, willing her forward. _Kahlen. _ The voice spoke, _Kahlen, come. _As she got to the top step, Kahlen's eyes shot to the open door to her right, the poorly painted green one. It was open only a third of the way, and a glance of movement inside drew her to it. Her feet shuffled along the wood, inching closer to the open door. She removed her arm from her side, preparing to grab the doorknob and push it open. A deep blanket of cold wrapped itself bindingly around her outstretched hand and a chill that felt much like a cold grip wrapped around her neck. Kahlen's thin fingers coiled around the cold brass door knob, and for some reason unbeknownst to her, her heart skipped a beat. Kahlen, wasting no time, thrust the door open.

October 24, 1846

"Eliza!"

The girl turned around at the abrupt shout of her name. She set the watering pail gingerly on the dirt next to her, brushing off her dress. She sighed internally to see Cynthia Smith running very with her skirt bunched in her hands towards her. Cynthia was the town crier and Eliza highly doubted she just came to help her with hauling water. Sure enough, as Cynthia approached she had a sinful gleam in her eyes. Much of her blond hair had fallen out of her bun but Cynthia didn't give much care to it, sweeping it back briefly. She looked to Eliza excitedly.

"You will never guess what I heard today creeping through town." Cynthia took a seat on the gray stone wall of the well, tugging Eliza down with her. Eliza looked to her expectantly.

Cynthia leaned in closer to her, her face flushed. She glanced around quickly so as to assure no one was eavesdropping.

"Well," Cynthia dropped her voice to a low, eager whisper. "I heard from Sarah Parker who heard from Hope Goodwin who was told by Emma Bunt who nearly experienced it first hand that… well, dear, I am not even sure if I should be telling you this."

"Well, _sweet _Cynthia, you and I both know that for sure you will just burst if you do not tell _someone._ Now come out and say it." Eliza assured, secretly at least somewhat interested in what the girl had to say. Cynthia nodded at this.

"Well, all right then. Well, last night, Maxwell Coldwell told his wife-"

"Grace?" Eliza pointed out.

"Why, yes, of course, now let me get on with it. Maxwell told Grace that he would be spending the night with Abraham Daley and his family in order to get an early start the next day on repairing the Daleys' roof."

"Well, that is not so shocking to me…" Eliza commented.

"Wait, wait," Cynthia whined, waving her hand at Eliza. "I am not even halfway through yet!"

"Yes, continue then." Eliza sighed, desperately wishing Cynthia to get to the point.

"Alright, so Grace was home alone that night, aside from her two small children."

"I would hate to be all alone in that big house of theirs at nighttime. I would feel so isolated if I were the only one on the hill."

Cynthia sighed. "Please, dear Eliza, comment afterwards, but I must tell you what happened!"

"Yes, I am so sorry, go on with it, Cynthia."

"Grace could not sleep that night for loneliness, and her children were fast asleep. She decided to take a brisk walk down the street." At this, Cynthia leaned in closer to Eliza, sneaking a glance around her once more. "And as dear Grace was passing by the old barn in the alcove at the end of the road, she heard voices."

"Voices?"

"Yes, voices. She thought it might be the Goodwin twins for they are always getting themselves into mischief, so she was going to open the barn door to scold them." Cynthia took a deep breath, holding a silence to create a dramatic pause.

"And?" Eliza questioned, becoming more interested in the Cynthia's elaborate story. A wicked gleam passed through Cynthia's eyes, the corners of her mouth turning up.

"Grace opened the barn door."

"Yes, and?" Eliza urged.

Cynthia shrugged casually, enjoying the suspense she was putting Eliza through. "Well, maybe it's best for me not to say."

"Cynthia Smith, you tell me this instant!" Eliza insisted as a giggle emerged from Cynthia's throat.

"Well, fine then, I suppose I cannot keep you guessing forever. Grace opened the door and found her husband, Maxwell..."

Eliza waved her hands for Cynthia to continue.

"With Flora Jameson."

The thought did not register in Eliza's mind at first. "Yes? What were they doing?"

Cynthia's eyes widened and she glanced away. She grew tight lipped. "Well, they were not sharing a cup of tea, if that's what you were thinking, Eliza."

Eliza gasped, putting her hand to her chest. "Adultery? Why on earth would Maxwell do such a thing? And the Jameson girl?"

"Well, you cannot say it is not expected of Flora, dear Eliza, she's had just about three husbands in her twenty-four years."

"That's just terrible!" Eliza breathed. "Absolutely awful! Poor old Grace, she must be wallowing. We must visit her and bring some sweets... possibly our company will make her feel better?" Eliza stood, as well as Cynthia.

"Oh, I could not, Eliza. Grace already dislikes me, I do not think I will comfort her."

"Well, then, I'll just have to go without you." Eliza said plaintively, shaking her dress free of gathering dust. She leaned down to pick up her water pail. Don't expect me back here today."

"Alright then," Cynthia nodded, "But if she asks you, you did not hear the news from me."

"Whatever you wish, Cynthia. Say, why don't you find Lawrence Jameson and make it sure that he is not punishing Flora too harshly, eh?"

"Perhaps I will." Cynthia called back as Eliza disappeared around the corner.

For no particular reason, Kahlen felt a rush of fury hit her as the green door swung open. She felt as if she should storm into the room and start ripping all of the paintings off the walls and break the window panes. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, willing the feeling to disappear. The strong emotion faded, though a slight sense of rage boiled deep inside her, causing her stomach to churn. Kahlen placed her right foot into the room, letting it sink into the soft, dull green carpet. She let her other foot step into the soft cushion of rug, a big contrast from the rough hardwood floor she had previously been walking on. She walked into the middle of the room, her feet padding lightly along the floor. She guessed that this was the master bedroom, for it was a big, open space. There was a bay window to the left of the bed with a seat under it, a perfect spot to sit and read, or maybe just observe the goings-on of the town. Kahlen began to move forward to sit down on the bench to just admire her new yard, but the voice was back. And this time it was more of a chill just spiraling itself around her body, reeling her in like a fish on a hook. And when Kahlen turned around and followed the pull, that is when she saw it for the first time. The mirror. A large, lengthwise mirror set into the wall. It looked old to Kahlen, vintage old. The wood border that outlined it was cracking, the carvings that had once been so prominent and most likely haunting had faded, and Kahlen was unsure of what they were. To, Kahlen, the room began to grow very frigid, the mirror so clear it seemed to be emitting frost. Kahlen reached out and laid her palm against the glass. She stared at her reflection, so unrecognizable to her. _Is that really me? _She thought.Kahlen didn't look any physically different, but when she stared at the reflection of her eyes, a vacant stare shot back at her. Dark brown eyes that had lost their passion. Sad, dead eyes. _Those aren't my eyes._ She thought. _They can't be mine._

And then, for no reason known to her, Kahlen opened her mouth as a dull voice emerged and chanted.

"_Mirror, mirror, on the wall…"_


	4. Chapter 3: Blair's Room

Chapter 3 - Blair's Room

"Kahlen?" Kahlen spun around at the call of her name, her heart beating fast. She came down from her startled state when she realized it was Greer. She wasn't able to say anything, really, just stare at Greer while her head spun in circles. Greer cranked his head around, starting to observe the room they were in. His eyes widened.

"Wow." He voiced, walking around the bed to the window seat. "This the master bedroom? It's nice." Greer admired, nodding approvingly at the view outside the window. He walked past Kahlen, hardly noticing the mirror she had been gazing into. He entered a little alcove with Kahlen trailing behind him. When Greer walked into the alcove, he thought he would've found a small closet, but a large walk-in greeted him. To his right, there were many empty shelves for shoes and clothes. It was so large he estimated that the entire family could stand in it. Straight ahe cdad, there was a closed door. He continued forward, opening the door with a loud creak and a bit of curiosity building up inside him. The thrill ended when the door revealed nothing much except a large-sized master bathroom. It had two sinks on a long counter along with a caddy-cornered shower.

"Hmm." Greer nodded. "Not too shabby." He turned around again to head out and jumped slightly when he saw Kahlen. "I forgot you were behind me." He mentioned, noticing her silence. "You okay?" He exited the alcove, blinking at the sudden daylight that the room cast upon them.

"Yeah, fine." Kahlen answered, shaking her head. She rubbed her hands together. "It's just a bit cold in here. And the house is so overwhelming."

Greer's face lit up like a child's. "I _know, _isn't it excellent?!" He exclaimed gleefully. "I'll go check the thermostat." Greer nearly skipped out of the room. He felt so accomplished for finding the _perfect _house. Nothing could be wrong with this house. It didn't seem possible. Well, aside from it being a tad on the chilly side, but that was expected when you lived in Canada, wasn't it?

Blair had finished exploring the bottom level of the house, taking a liking to the room directly of the kitchen. It had a large piano in the corner and two big, brown comfy couches. The lighting was dim, and she liked that, especially since the walls were splashed with a deep crimson color. There was one large vertical window that looked out into the woods, but it had a thick Venetian blind covering her site of it for now. Blair supposed she should leave it now, however, because if the downstairs was this beautiful, the upstairs must be just as stunning. She wandered into the large, open hallway and was about to put her foot on the first step of the wide staircase when her niece and nephew came barreling around the corner and past Blair up the staircase. Bridgette punched Jay on the way up in attempt to get ahead of him.

"No punching your brother on the staircase!" Blair shouted, trying her shot at discipline. "Or, ever, for that matter!" But by the time Blair had added the necessary statement, the kids had peeled around the corner upstairs in search of the bedrooms they wanted. She began to climb up the staircase, holding tightly onto the banister. Knowing her clumsiness, Blair would miss a step and fall, or something along those lines. Her apprehension faded, though, when her eyes drove to a clear French door sticking out like a sore thumb straight ahead at the top of the staircase. Her feet seemed to work on their own up the rest of the staircase, and she got to the top, standing in front of the balcony. The wood creaked beneath her. The door in front of her had a think shade over it on the other side, but she could see the outline of the room through it. She could see a bed against the wall and a bureau opposite it. Blair's curiosity got the best of her and she put her hand on the gray, curling door handle, pushing it downward and stepping into the room. She would normally have let Bridgette or Jay see if they wanted the room, but Blair felt drawn to it. She was drawn to it for a good reason, she discovered. The bed was a bit small, but that was beside the fact. The bureau was large and would definitely hold all of her clothes. The ceilings were nearly as high as the ones downstairs, if that was possible. But, best of all, there were two doors identical to the one she entered the room in. Two windows accompanied it. Blair could see straight through them, and her mind nearly exploded when she saw the balcony. She had always wanted a balcony outside of her room, ever since she was little. She walked slowly towards it, the hardwood floor rough against her feet. She reached out her hand, grasping the handle in it to turn it and open the doors wide, but it didn't budge. Blair tried again, yanking the door towards her. But they didn't moved. She figured they must be locked, for there was a small skeleton keyhole below the handle. She turned around, wandering carelessly over to the bureau to see if the key was hidden in one of its drawers. She was about to open one and find out when a small knock sounded to her right. She turned to see Kahlen standing in the doorway, knocking gently on the doorframe.

"Hey." Blair greeted, abandoning her task and walking up to her sister.

"I see you found your room." Kahlen observed, her arms crossed. Her eyes passed briefly over the room. Blair nodded, motioning to the French doors.

"Balcony."

"I see." Kahlen nodded, remembering Blair's past obsession with having a balcony outside her room. "Where're the kids?"

Blair smirked. "They trampled past me up the stairs and," Blair pointed to the right, "went that way." Kahlen followed her gaze and began to turn around to find Bridgette and Jay. "What about Greer?" Blair questioned before her sister walked away.

Kahlen kept walking, but shouted back to Blair, "He's checking the thermostat or something!"

Blair shrugged. It wasn't cold or anything but she guessed Greer had to find _something _to occupy himself, considering he was usually doing something or other. Blair was about to trail after her sister to see what her niece and nephew were up to when she heard a scuffling noise behind her. She rotated on her heels to view the room, and noticed something she hadn't before. There was a door to her right, next to the bureau. Blair wasn't quite sure how she had missed it before, but she dismissed the thought, moving towards it. There seemed to be noise on the other side of it, like someone movie around. Instead of being like a typical horror movie character, Blair first put her ear against the wood door to see if she could identify the sound. But just as she did so, the strange sound disappeared. She removed her head from against the door and stood back a second, waiting to hear it again. But there was only silence from the other side of the door. Assuming that it was a closet, Blair reached forward and pulled it open towards her. She expected to see a coat rack or shelves, but instead, it opened to another room. She stepped through the door, the floor going from hardwood to green carpet. Blair guessed that it was the master bedroom, it was about two times bigger than the previous bedroom. She glanced around, seeing a bed to the left of her and an even larger bureau than hers on the wall to the left of her. There was a cute little window seat looking out the same side as the balcony. She moved her gaze to the wall opposite her, and that's when she saw it. A beautiful mirror set into the wall. Blair stared blankly into it at herself. As she looked at her reflection, something felt different about it. She wasn't quite sure what it was, maybe it was just the mirror. But…somehow the reflection looking back at her seemed like a complete stranger. Blair couldn't place it exactly, but there was definitely something unusual about it. She shrugged, dismissing the thought and turning away. She was about to walk out of the room when she felt a sudden rush of paranoia plow through her. Blair's feet picked up their pace and nearly flew across the carpet and out the door to the hall. Blair stopped to catch her breath, realizing that it was ridiculous to feel threatened to turn her back on a mirror. But a sense of fear was still churning deep inside her that just wouldn't leave.

A hand closed around her shoulder and Blair screamed, not expecting the sudden touch. She turned around to see Greer's eyes widen. He threw his hands up in the air defensively.

"Whoa! Sorry, Blair, I didn't mean to scare you." Greer apologized, dropping his hands to his sides. Blair, embarrassed, tucked her short hair quickly behind her ears. She folded her arms together.

"Um, it's okay… I mean, I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm so jumpy." Blair admitted timidly, breathing silently to slow down her heart.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm running down to get some groceries at the town store. I couldn't find Kahlen, would you tell her for me?"

"Sure." Blair nodded. "I think she's with the kids somewhere."

Greer glanced around, then lowered his voice. "It could just be me, but I kind of noticed Kahlen acting a bit off. Anything wrong?"

Blair shook her head, still recovering from her startle. "No, she seemed fine to me." She shrugged casually.

Greer shrugged also. "It's probably just me, then. Besides, I guess this whole thing is a bit overwhelming, huh?"

Blair smiled, a half-smile, really, Blair was never known to fully smile. "Just a bit." She laughed.

Greer patted her on the shoulder, backing up to head downstairs. "If you get bored, you could try to figure out how to hook up the cable." Greer laughed, winking. The sounds of his footsteps down the stairs echoed up the hallway.


	5. Chapter 4: The Folks in Town

Chapter 4 - The Folks in Town

As Greer walked through the open door of the supermarket, he realized it was much bigger than he expected. With this "quaint" little town, he would've thought the market would be more of little general store, like in the old time western movies. As Greer shuffled along the tile floor, peering down the aisles, he discovered that the shelves were stacked with things like chips, soda, magazines, and completely random things such as a rack of belts at the start of one aisle. It wasn't a Stop and Shop or anything (if they even had those in Canada), it's name "SUPERMARKET" printed in bold, red letters above the store doors in front. But it definitely didn't just have the basics. Greer threw his eyes around to spot a cart, seeing a few young boys dart crazily in and out of the banana racks in front of him. He rotated on his heels, preparing to venture to the other side of the store, when he was suddenly face to face with a bright looking woman. A vibrant, white smile burst across her face. She had her dark blond hair pulled back into a ponytail and bangs that curled very 80's like across her forehead.

"I say, I haven't seen you before. Would you like me to point you in the direction of the shopping carts or baskets?" The woman questioned exuberantly, like she had recited it just about a thousand times. Greer was sure his face looked like he was in some form of torture.

"Um, yes, actually. I - my family and I just moved into Antigonish." He said reluctantly, just wanted to scoot out of there. The woman's eyes grew wide, but kept their happy glint.

"So you're new in town, eh?" The Rachael Ray exclaimed. She stuck out her hand. "I'm Pam, the Customer Service manager at Supermarket." The shine of Pam's teeth nearly wore Greer's eyes to nothing. He took her hand, though, shaking it. In a new town, Greer felt he had to be polite to make a good impression.

"Hi. I'm Greer… Wilson." Greer added his last name as an afterthought, not really sure why.

"I see." Pam replied, taking her hand away. "And you moved here with your family?"

"Yes." Greer stated, shoving his hands in his pockets. He jiggled his keys around in his hand, tapping his foot. Impatience began to settle in. "With my wife, Kahlen, and her sister Blair. My two kids, also, Jay and Bridgette."

"How delightful." Pam clapped her hands together joyfully, seeming to actually mean the words. "How old your children?"

"Bridgette's fifteen and Jay's twelve." Greer looked around anxiously, hoping someone would wander along looking for assistance.

"Your oldest is fifteen? How can that be, why you don't look a day over thirty!"

"Well, thanks." Greer sighed, "But I'm actually thirty-eight."

"Is your wife older than you, then?" Pam questioned, stepping closer to him as a man attempted to squeeze past her with a cartful of bags.

"Kahlen's two years younger than me, really."

"So you two were pretty young when you had your first child, then?"

"We met in college." Greer nodded. He rocked back and forth edgily on his heels. A silence filled the air and he was going to snatch the opportunity when Pam opened her mouth to speak again.

"Where have you guys moved in to?" Her eyes drilled into his so much at this question that it made Greer almost nervous to answer it.

"We, um, we're in the old Victorian up on the hill. You know… at the end of that "B" street?"

At this, the exuberant smile that had once laid on Pam's face faded, her eyes quickly losing their cheer. "Wait… what?" She asked solemnly.

"We moved into it. The one on its own little hill-"

"I know which one you're talking about." Pam cut him off abruptly. Her face read stoic. "I um… have to go now, I do have other customers." Pam, without leaving a greeting, turned on her heels and clicked away, her head peering downwards. Greer was glad she had finally ceased her interview, but half of him held onto the perplexed - and almost angry look that had set on her face. He shook it off and walked in the opposite direction to find someone who could tell him where the damn carts were.

Kahlen, her hands in her pockets, strolled into the left room on the end of the hall. Jay was standing by the window, gazing intensively out it.

"Hey, Jay." Kahlen called, standing in the doorway. He turned around, still holding onto the window pane.

"Oh. Hi, Mom." He replied, turning back to look out the window.

"Can I come in?" She questioned half-jokingly. Jay nodded, though still keeping his back to her. She wandered in, glancing around at the wood furniture. She sat down on the bed to the left of him, which creaked. She compulsively brushed non-existing dust off the bedspread. "Nice view?" Kahlen questioned. Jay nodded silently.

"The woods." He added in hesitantly after a few seconds.

"Sweet, wish I had that view." Kahlen nodded. "But you know, the master bedroom. Has the size, just not the views. Not the view I would have preferred, at least. I'd chose the woods over the town square any day."

Jay continued to stare out at the woods, his eyes drifting into the deep shadows the trees were making. He opened his mouth to speak, though he didn't turn back to Kahlen to do it. "That's great." Jay said, obviously not meaning it.

Kahlen made a face, clutching her hand over her heart. "Wow, Jay, that was really a shot to the heart." She said sarcastically, smiling. She expected him to turn back to her to make a face himself, but he just stood there in silence. Kahlen smoothed the bedspread between her fingers. "Okay, mister have-no-humor." She put out casually.

"Do you miss her?"

The smile on Kahlen's face faded quickly. She forgot how to speak momentarily, hoping that Jay didn't mean who she thought he meant. It hadn't been talked about in such a long time. She tried the innocent, clueless approach.

"Who?"

Jay turned around at last. Seeing the look in his mother's eyes made him feel almost guilty for ever asking the question in the first place. His eyes quickly dropped to the ground.

"Um… Leila." He breathed. He instantly spotted Kahlen in his peripheral vision sighing in relief. Her whole body slouched as she relaxed.

"Well, Jay, she's my best friend. The last time I saw her was four years ago. Of course I miss her. But I don't think that moving to Canada will make her talk to me again. It was a feud over something I don't even remember and we never fixed it. We should have. But then she moved to Minnesota and we never got around to calling each other." She rose from the bed, crossing her arms. "What's with your random thoughts, anyway?" Kahlen ruffled Jay's hair and he slapped her hand away, embarrassed.

"Right." He muttered as Kahlen walked slowly out of the room. He remembered what the feud was over, he remembered it so clearly.

Kahlen ran into Blair as she entered the hallway - literally. She backed off from her sister and shook her head.

"Sorry, I guess I'm still getting used to this house." Kahlen apologized. Blair nodded.

"Yeah, me too. And Greer went to the market."

Kahlen continued walking, Blair tagging along behind her. "Oh, great, Blair! Let the man go to the market alone!" Kahlen laughed sarcastically, gripping the balcony as she went quickly down the staircase. She wasn't quite sure where she was going. "Watch him come home with like, eight pounds of hamburger meat and twenty cases of Samuel Adams."

Blair rolled her eyes at this. "Nah, he'll be fine… hopefully."

Kahlen got to the bottom of the stairs, glancing around her. She decided to take a look at the view from the front porch, walking to the front door. She opened it with a creak and stepped out onto the porch. A large swing hung to her right and she sat down on it. It swung under her weight but held out well even when Blair took a seat next to her.

"He was kind of hinting that we hook up the cable." Blair mentioned. Kahlen turned to her.

"Hmm?"

"Greer. He wanted us to get the cable going."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"So he's got the television up and working?"

"Um, no cable."

"Oh. Right."

"Are you okay?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?! I'm fine!"

"Fine? Kahlen, you have to know that when you say fine, I know that's exactly what you _aren't-"_

"I'm fine! I'm just very cold currently because we're in Canada!"

Blair sighed from the dialogued that her and Kahlen had exchanged. She was tired. She had been sitting in the backseat of a car for twelve hours. She needed her sister to not look like she was about to cry.

"Kahlen… when Greer's friends put up all the furniture in the house, and brought in the boxes- he told me all of the boxes are in the attic."

Kahlen shot Blair a confused look. "Okay, thanks for telling me…?"

"No. I mean… Kahlen, _everything's _up there. _Everything._"

"Yes, I believe you have told me that."

"Kahlen!"

"What?!" She exclaimed innocently back.

"Stop being so da- just stop acting ignorant, okay?" Blair searched for the correct word for the way Kahlen was acting, which probably wasn't ignorant. But it was close enough. She held back the urges to yell at her further. She rose from the swing, facing the view of the many houses below them. She crossed her arms.

"Fine! Okay, Blair, I'm listening. If you get to the point, maybe I won't have to be so ignorant!"

"I'm just trying to say that Emilie's-" She turned back to face Kahlen. But the bench was empty.

Greer struggled to steer the terribly rusted cart down the cereal aisle. The wheels squeaked, nearly piercing his eardrums. He wasn't even sure what cereal his family ate. Did they even eat cereal? Greer shook his head, snatching a box of Cheerios and Frosted Flakes off the shelf. He was almost surprised that they had these cereals in Canada. He tossed them in the cart carelessly, attempting to turn the cart around the corner. As he looked up to read the next sign, he felt his cart bump into something. He looked down to spot the head of a red-haired woman looking though her purse. She lifted her head and they both, at the same time, apologized for running into one another. It was only after this when their eyes met did they both fall into shocked silence.

"Greer!" She shouted in astonishment.

"Leila?!" He gasped.

They stood just like, this gazing at each other before Greer finally spoke up again.

"What are you doing here?!" He questioned, still standing in the same place in amazement.

"Uh, I _live _here, duh! What are you doing here?!" She shouted back.

"Well, we moved here! Today, actually." He grinded his teeth together, nearly biting his tongue. "Kahlen's tried to call you, just to tell you." Leila shrugged at this. Greer was irked by her silence. "So first you move to Minnesota, promising you'll keep in contact with her… and then, what? Nothing! Nothing, Leila! You just cut her off completely! Do you know how many times Kahlen called you, sent emails, letters?! Then you just go and move to another country? Without telling us?"

Leila shook her head, halting Greer's speech. "Greer… Kahlen and I have been talking for the past two years. But she never told me you guys were moving to the town I live in…"

Greer's eyebrows caved in, her mouth turned down in confusion. "What?"

"We've been talking ever since… well ever since she tried to."

"Tried to what?" Greer asked, waving his hand in the air for Leila to finish the sentence. Leila stared at him, a "duh" look set in her eyes.

"Greer, I know what she did is surely difficult for you to recall, but you _know _what I'm talking about."

"No I don't, Leila, I really don't! And Kahlen never told me that you guys made amends…" Greer began to grow anxious. He wondered if it was a complete coincidence or that Leila was actually telling the truth.

"Listen… I don't know why she wouldn't tell you that we were talking again so I'm thinking that maybe she did and you forgot. But she told me she was seeing a psychiatrist…"

"Leila! You have to understand that I didn't _forget _anything! Nothing big happened two years ago and she has _not _told me that you guys were talking again. And she's not seeing a psychiatrist for any reason, because she has no reason!"

A man walking past stared at the two and Leila gave him a glare. She turned to Greer, keeping the glare set on her face.

"Listen, _Greer, _you are being very loud right now, not to mention snobby and pretentious. Are you trying to prove what everyone else thinks Connecticut people are like?"

"I am not trying to prove anything, Leila, I'm just trying to understand!" Greer shot angrily at her, lowering his voice.

Leila's face fell from its angry state and she looked a bit guilty. "Look, I'm sorry, I just… I can't believe you don't know what's going on in your wife's life!"

"Well, how am I supposed to know things if she doesn't tell me?" Greer questioned. Leila sighed.

"She really didn't tell you?"

"No!" He shouted back.

Leila heaved a sigh once more. She stared at Greer, the puzzled look on his face seeming genuine. She motioned to a green plastic bench at the back of the store.

"Let's sit down, huh?" She said gently. Leila walked to the bench as Greer hesitantly followed, the cart squeaking. When he got to where Leila was sitting, he tucked the cart between the wall and the bench. He sat down next to her, shifting in the uncomfortable seat. Leila had pulled out her cell phone. She looked up at the ceiling, then down at the floor, looking as nervous as she would be to make a big speech. She turned to face Greer.

"Two years ago, my phone had about a two-week period of being screwed up. I mean, my sister would call and it said it was my boss, my dad would call and it would say it was my boyfriend, you know? Plus the ringtones were screwed up, it would randomly hang up on me and it would record random conversations I had that would be store in my phone's memory. So one day during this period, my phone rang. The caller ID said it was my mother, but when I picked it up, I didn't here anything. And… well you'll hear." Leila was clicking many buttons on her phone.

"Hear what?" Greer questioned. But Leila held out the phone to him.

"My phone recorded the conversation. I saved it. Just listen to it, okay?"

Greer took the phone from Leila's hand and put it to his ear.

"Press the center button to play it."

Greer pressed it, putting it to his ear once more. An automated voice rang in his ear.

NOVEMBER 28, 2005, 7:48 P.M.

Greer listened as a different, non-robotic voice entered his ear.

**LEILA**: HELLO? MOM?

-SILENCE-

**LEILA: **MOM? YOU THERE?

**KAHLEN**: LEILA?

**LEILA**: WHO IS THIS?

**KAHLEN**: LEILA, YOU ANSWERED…

**LEILA**: WHO IS THIS?

**KAHLEN**: IT'S ME, KAHLEN.

**LEILA**: KAHLEN, I CAN'T TALK TO YOU. I HAVE TO GO.

**KAHLEN**: NO!

**LEILA**: KAHLEN, I'M HANGING UP.

**KAHLEN**: NO! LEILA, PLEASE.

-SILENCE-

**KAHLEN**: NO! LEILA! I'M SORRY, LEILA, YOU WERE RIGHT!

**LEILA**: WHAT?

**KAHLEN**: YOU WERE RIGHT. IT'S MY FAULT. IT'S ALL MY FAULT.

**LEILA**: KAHLEN, I NEVER SAID IT WAS YOU FAULT.

**KAHLEN**: BUT I WAS WRONG! I SHOULDN'T HAVE DONE IT, LEILA!

**LEILA**: KAHLEN, _I_ WAS WRONG. YOU AND I BOTH KNOW THAT YOU MADE THE RIGHT DECISION.

**KAHLEN:**NO! YOU WERE RIGHT! I SHOULD NEVER HAVE LET HER GO!

**LEILA: **NO, KAHLEN. IF YOU HADN'T LET HER GO, SHE WOULD HAVE SUFFERED. YOU KNOW THAT. SHE'S BETTER OFF NOW THAN SHE EVER WOULD HAVE BEEN IF YOU HAD LISTENED TO ME.

**KAHLEN**: IF I HAD LISTENED TO YOU, SHE WOULD STILL BE ALIVE!

**LEILA: **YOU DON'T KNOW THAT, KAHLEN. EVEN IF SHE WAS ALIVE, SHE WOULD BE IN A TREMENDOUS DEAL OF PAIN.

**KAHLEN: **I DON'T DESERVE TO LIVE.

**LEILA: **WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, KAHLEN?

**KAHLEN: **IF I TOOK HER LIFE AWAY, WHY SHOULD I HAVE MINE?

**LEILA: **BECAUSE YOU DID IT FOR A REASON, KAHLEN! THE RIGHT REASON!

-SOUND OF RUNNING WATER-

**LEILA: **KAHLEN?

**-**SOUND OF HAIRDRYER-

**LEILA: **KAHLEN? ARE YOU BLOWDRYING YOUR HAIR?

-SOUND OF RADIO-

**-**SOUND OF MUSIC-

**LEILA: **KAHLEN? DO YOU CARE TO TELL ME WHY YOU ARE LISTENING TO MULTIPLE SETS OF RADIOS?

**-**SOUND OF TELEVISION-

**LEILA: **KAHLEN? WHAT'S GOING ON?

**KAHLEN: **I'M GOING TO GET INTO THE BATHTUB.

**LEILA: **WHAT? KAHLEN…

**KAHLEN: **I'M BRINGING THE RADIOS AND THE TELEVISION AND THE HAIRDRYER WITH ME.

-SILENCE-

**LEILA: **KAHLEN… DON'T JOKE AROUND LIKE THAT…

**KAHLEN: **I'M NOT JOKING, LEILA.

**LEILA: **KAHLEN, JUST THINK A MINUTE, HERE!

-SOUND OF CORDS DRAGGING ACROSS THE GROUND-

**KAHLEN: **I'M GOING TO GET IN.

**LEILA: **NO! KAHLEN, NO!

-SILENCE-

**LEILA: **KAHLEN!!! KAHLEN, PLEASE! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO YOUR FAMILY!

-SILENCE-

**LEILA:** KAHLEN! KAHLEN, ANSWER ME! WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITHOUT YOU? DO YOU THINK I'VE BEEN LIVING HAPPILY SINCE I STOPPED TALKING TO YOU? I JUST STOPPED PICKING UP THE PHONE WHEN YOU CALLED AND WHEN YOU WROTE LETTERS I JUST COULDN'T ANSWER THEM. IT REMINDED ME OF HOW EXCELLENT MY LIFE USED TO BE. THEN I MOVED HERE AND EVERYTHING CHANGED. THERE'S NO ONE LIKE YOU OVER HERE. MY BOYFRIEND AND I GET INTO AN ARGUMENT EVERY TIME WE LOOK AT EACH OTHER. I HAVE NO IDEA WHY I LEFT YOU FOR HIM… KAHLEN? KAHLEN, PLEASE!

-CRYING FROM OTHER END-

**LEILA: **KAHLEN, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? YOUR FAMILY WILL FALL APART IF YOU DO THIS.

**KAHLEN: **I HAVE TO DO IT.

**LEILA: **NO, KAHLEN, YOU DON'T. YOU CALL GREER RIGHT NOW. CALL HIM.

**AHLEN: **LEILA, I'M IN THE WATER.

**LEILA: **NO! GET OUT!

**KAHLEN: **I'M PUTTING THE RADIOS IN.

**LEILA: **NO, KAHLEN, NO! CALL GREER, CALL HIM RIGHT NOW!

**KAHLEN: **I WON'T.

**LEILA**THEN I'LL CALL HIM!

**KAHLEN: **NO, PLEASE. DON'T TELL HIM!

**LEILA: **KAHLEN, JUST CALL HIM. YOU DON'T HAVE TO TELL HIM, JUST CALL HIM.

**KAHLEN: **AND SAY WHAT? I'M DROPPING THE RADIOS IN-

**LEILA: **AND ASK HIM WHAT TIME HE'S COMING HOME. IF HE SAYS THAT HE LOVES YOU, YOU HAVE TO PROMISE ME YOU WILL GET OUT OF THE WATER AND DRAIN IT.

-SILENCE-

**LEILA: **KAHLEN? KAHLEN?

**-**RINGING-

**GREER: **HELLO?

**KAHLEN: **GREER?

**GREER: **HEY, KAY, WHAT'S UP?

**KAHLEN**: WHAT TIME ARE YOU GETTING HOME?

**GREER: **AROUND NINE-ISH. AFTER I PICK UP THE KIDS FROM SOCCER AND CHEERLEADING.

**KAHLEN: **OKAY.

**GREER: **IS THAT ALL?

**KAHLEN: **YEAH.

**GREER: **ARE YOU OKAY, KAHLEN? YOU SOUND UPSET.

**KAHLEN: **I JUST WANT YOU HOME.

**GREER**: WELL,I CAN LEAVE WORK. I'LL JUST TELL THEM I HAVE TO VISIT MY SICK GRANDMOTHER OR SOMETHING.

**KAHLEN: **DON'T DO THAT, GREER. YOUR WORK'S IMPORTANT.

**GREER: **KAHLEN. THERE WILL _NEVER _BE A TIME WHEN ANYTHING IS MORE IMPORTANT TO ME THAN YOU, OKAY?

**KAHLEN: **DON'T LEAVE WORK. I'M FINE.

**GREER: **I'M COMING ANYWAY, KAHLEN. I LOVE YOU.

**KAHLEN: **FINE, SEE YOU SOON.

**GREER: **YEAH, HONEY. BYE.

-DIAL TONE-

**LEILA: **KAHLEN? KAHLEN, GET OUT.

**KAHLEN: **I'M OUT. I'M DRAINING IT.

**LEILA: **KAHLEN, PROMISE ME YOU WILL STAY ON THE PHONE WITH ME UNTIL GREER GETS HOME.

**KAHLEN: **OKAY.


	6. Chapter 5: Images

Chapter 5 - Images

Greer felt he succeeded in the grocery shopping, managing to cover all of the basic food groups (well, mostly). Walking into his new house for the second time really didn't make it feel any more like home then it had before, but it was a good feeling, knowing that this was where he would be living from now on. When he entered the main area of the house, however, plastic bags hanging like leaves off of his arms, the house was filled with an eerie silence. He was tempted to shout out, "Honey, I'm home!", in a Cuban accent but something held him back. He set the bags down in the entryway, kicking his shoes off. He decided he would put away the food later, tired from the vigorous thinking that was involved with going to the market. Greer paced up the hallway, his feet stopping that the large staircase. He decided he would go up to the master bedroom to see if Kahlen was there, and, if not, he would take a shower. As he walked up the creaking staircase, he prayed that the hot water would work. His back seemed to crack with each step he took, that's what twelve hours in the front seat of a car had done to him. As he approached the master bedroom, it was dark. He walked in and flipped on the light, which was over the bed. It was a lot duller than he expected, and the dim glow had now settled over the room. Greer, keeping his vow, started walking to the bathroom to take a shower. But the mirror mounted on the wall caused him to halt in his tracks. He stared at his image. Had it only been an hour and a half ago that the strange woman at the market told him he didn't look a day above thirty? Because right now, looking in the mirror, his eyes looked weak and tired. He put his hands to his face, stretching out the group of small, thin wrinkles that had gathered around the edges of his mouth. His back suddenly voiced a loud _crack_ as he bent forward to look at the image before him, and the sound echoed. Greer was about to stare at the reflection further, but figured that it must be the dull lighting that played a factor in the sudden age increase he saw before him. It's not like he had developed serious back problems and that many wrinkles in a snap of the fingers, right?

Kahlen decided to head in when she heard the front door slam. She had been sitting on the porch swing, Blair and the kids out in the woods somewhere. She had seen the car driving from the center of town, had followed it with her eyes until it was going up the driveway. Which had been a bit difficult considering it was nearly pitch black out now aside form the streetlights and the dim one above her head. Kahlen guessed that she should've gone up to the car when it pulled in, to help him with the groceries, but she felt that she would keel over in pain if she moved. Ever since… well, ever since she looked in the mirror she'd felt nauseated. She knew it sounded stupid, it sounded stupid to herself, just thinking it. But Kahlen was truly beginning to think she was coming down with something. Her head burned and her neck hurt to turn it. But it had started faded away, strangely, once she had heard the side door close. She rose, feeling slightly dizzied but otherwise over her strange fever-like spell. She entered the house, the screen door pausing on its hinges before deciding to fully close itself. Kahlen expected to see Greer in the hallway, but all that was there was about ten bags of groceries and his messily strewn shoes. She heard footsteps above and climbed the staircase slowly. Light peeked from beneath the master bedroom door. When she pushed it open, the sound of running water welcomed her ears. She was going to call for Greer when she looked into the mirror again. It was purely by accident, for her eyes were simply passing over the mirror briefly, just as a matter of glance. But her eyes stopped when she noticed something weird. She crept closer to the mirror until she was standing directly in front of it. This time, it wasn't just Kahlen's eyes that looked… strange. Deep bags had set under her dead-looking eyes. Kahlen lifted her hands to her face. A deep cut was scratched onto her skin, beside her left eye, the gash running from the corner of her eye to her temple. She wasn't sure how or when it appeared, but something else distracted her. On the inside of her left arm, right before the bend in her arm, was a dark blue bruise. Her arm suddenly felt very sore, and she bent it, wincing. Kahlen concluded that she must have fallen asleep on the swing or something, maybe pinched her skin between the chains… it had to be. Those things just couldn't appear out of nowhere. A voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Are you done expanding your ego?" Greer teased, appearing in the doorway of the closet. She turned to him.

"This mirror's just… a bit weird, that's all. I'm trying to figure out what's wrong with it. There's something off, you know?"

Greer, standing solely in his jeans, rolled his eyes. "Okay, Miss Philosophical." He pointed with his thumb in back of him. "I'm going to take a shower. If you could, there's some stuff in the attic I'd like you to look through." He was about to turn back around, but Kahlen grabbed his hand.

"Don't we have everything unpacked already?" She questioned tightly. Greer shrugged.

"There's some pans up there, I think, and some clothes. I just want to get it done." Greer was going to head to the shower once more, but Kahlen still held his hand.

"Everything's unpacked, Greer. Everything." Kahlen spit out through gritted teeth. Greer cocked his head at her, perplexed.

"But Jeremy called while I was leaving the store… he said there were, like, ten boxes up there that he hadn't unpacked." Greer removed his hand from Kahlen's. "I don't see what the big deal is, Kahlen."

"Then never mind." Kahlen muttered, seemingly happy to drop the subject. Greer wouldn't let it slide.

"No, Kahlen, what is it?"

"It's nothing. I just thought that we had unpacked everything, that's all." She turned to leave, but Greer grabbed her shoulder and spun her around to face him.

"Kahlen, seriously…"

Kahlen shrugged his hand off.

"Those boxes are Emilie's things."

Greer paused. "Right. Never mind. I've gotta take a shower, so…"

"I'll make dinner." Kahlen filled in, turning around. She stayed turned around, though she knew Greer was still behind her. "What did you get?"

"Huh?" Greer questioned, the steam from the running shower circling around his head.

"What did you get for dinner?" Kahlen asked, beginning to walk away slowly.

"Oh, right." Greer sighed, scratching his head. "I've got some hamburger meat, chicken legs, steak, that sort of thing. I can't remember, just look through the bags for yourself, would you? And they need to be put away, too. Hopefully the milk hasn't gone bad by now."

"Yeah, I'll do it." Kahlen sighed. She hoped Blair and the kids would come back so they could help her. Putting away groceries was her pet peeve.

Blair coughed. "I think I just swallowed a mosquito." She voiced. Bridgette turned back to her and rolled her eyes.

"Thanks, Aunt Blair, I can just look forward to having mosquitoes for dinner now." Bridgette bent down and picked up a long stick from the ground. She began whacking it against every tree they passed. Jay was leading the pack, and he turned around, glaring at Bridgette.

"Do you mind?' He said sarcastically, stopping to watch his sister hit a large pine tree.

"No, I don't, actually." Bridgette snapped back sassily. Just to rub it in, she cracked the stick in two against her knee. She threw one at Jay and threw the other one against the tree.

"Hey!" Blair shouted. "Would you stop throwing things at your brother?"

Jay, bored, began to walk farther ahead of them on the path. He disappeared around the corner.

Bridgette stuck her tongue out at the turn of his back.

"Bridgette." Blair stated, folding her arms and stopping in her tracks. "You're fifteen, don't you think you're a little old for the making of faces?"

"It doesn't matter anyway." Bridgette sneered, walking ahead. Blair followed.

"What?"

"I mean, if Jay made faces at me, you wouldn't say anything, would you?" Bridgette stuck her nose up in the air, folding her arms and stopping to stand squarely in front of her aunt.

"Of course I would say something, Bridge. As much as I hate it, I _do _have to discipline you guys."

Bridgette rolled her eyes. "No, I mean, you two are like Bonnie and Clyde. If your 'perfect little angel' did anything to hurt _me_, you wouldn't do anything."

"Bridgette, that's not true." Blair sighed.

"Yes it is, Aunt Blair, and you know it. And I don't care, I really don't, so whatever. I mean, he's closer to you than our mom. Favorites, Aunt Blair. Aunts play favorites, too, even if they don't notice it."

Blair shook her head, walking on alongside Bridgette. "Think whatever you want to think, Bridgette, but that's not true. I don't have _any _favorites. I think I'm just more like Jay then you."

"Psh." Bridgette sighed.

"But, and put your trust in me on this, Bridge, you are like a fifteen-year-old clone of your mother."

Bridgette's face burst into a smile. "Yeah right!" She laughed.

Blair waved her hand in the air. "I'm serious, Bridgette. Remember, I knew your mom when she was fifteen. It's like you two are reading off the same script."

Bridgette shot a doubtful, yet humorous look at her aunt.

"And you don't think she plays favorites, now do you?"

"Okay, blah blah, I get it, Aunt Blair. Gosh, I'm going to collapse from 7th Heaven overload heart failure." Bridgette clutched her hands over her heart. "Too much…." She paused, dropping to her knees. "Sappy… dialogue." She crossed her eyes, sticking her tongue out, and fell to the ground. "Uhhh." She groaned.

Blair rolled her eyes, sticking out her hand for Bridgette to grab it. "Oh, you're killing me, you're too funny." She praised sarcastically, pulling Bridgette up from the ground. "Come on, drama queen, let's go catch up with Jay."

October 24, 1846

"Hello?" Eliza clutched the doorframe, her feet shifting on the floor of the wood porch. She held the door open with one hand. She peered into the hallway, hearing nor seeing anything. Eliza wasn't the one to just take a step into anyone's house without being invited, so she opened her mouth once again to call for someone.

"Hello? Maxwell? Grace?" She called the homeowners' names, hoping they would come to the door. It was Saturday night, surely no one would be out of the house. Or at least not

_everyone_. "Mary? Joshua?" Eliza voiced the children's names, also, to see if they were home. But

not one answered her call or came to the door. A strange feeling started welling up in her chest,

swirling and strangling her heart. Eliza rarely did this, but she walked through the open door and

stepped into the wide, open hallway. She closed the door behind her. Eliza knew that feeling, as if

she knew something was terribly wrong. Silence surrounded her. A dull thumping interrupted it,

however, and Eliza cranked her head upward to look at the ceiling. The thumping sounded again.

It seemed as if it was coming from overhead. Curious, Eliza scaled the wide staircase to follow the

sound that played with her ears. When she arrived at the top, it sounded as if the thumping noises

were coming from the room straight ahead of her. She walked to it, opening the French doors. But

there was no one in the room. So Eliza stood, frozen, waiting for the thumps to sound again. _Thump _

to her right. She followed the sound with her eyes, and they stumbled upon a closed door. _Someone _

_in the closet?_ Eliza asked herself. Maybe Mary and Joshua were playing a game of hide and seek.

She closed her hand around the brass knob and turned it, opening the door towards her only a

crack so as to peek into the closet. Though when she looked through the crack, it wasn't a closet she

saw, but rather a large room. She supposed it was the master bedroom. But Eliza could still not see

anything. Another _thump _ rang loudly in her ears. And again. Eliza resisted what every instinct in

her gut was telling her and pulled the door all the way open, striding defiantly into the room. A ball

of fear welled up in her and threatened to burst through her tolerant spirit… until Eliza saw that

there was not a single soul in the bedroom. She sighed, discovering the source of the thumping

sound. She walked over to the window to close it, which had been banging against the wall with each gust of wind that passed by.

"See, Eliza?" She sighed to herself. "Nothing is wrong." It was then that Eliza turned and

saw the mirror. A beautiful mirror, yes. But there was something that looked like cranberry sauce

smeared on it. As Eliza approached the mirror, she discovered that it actually read something.

My worst fear has come true. I am going to die.

Eliza was taken aback by this message. The words thumped with life, the mirror giving them boldness, lending the words strength beyond their meaning. _Who wrote this? _Eliza thought to herself. _It must be dear Grace. _Eliza agreed, nodding to herself. A man's handwriting, especially upon a mirror, is not as dainty. _Poor Grace_, Eliza sympathized. It seemed as if Eliza had already arrived too late, for Grace's words on the mirror proved that Grace's head was a bit loser than usual. Eliza passed her eyes over the message again. She suspected that one of Grace's fears was that her husband's eyes may wander, but for the life of her, Eliza could not understand why Grace assumed she would perish. Eliza's heart suddenly skipped a beat as hushed voices floated up the stairs. She looked around quickly, and, went for the escape route of the "secret door". The voices grew louder, and Eliza's steps to the door grew longer until she finally reached it. Eliza leaped through and closed it silently as she heard loud, angered feet banging into the master bedroom next to her. Curious, Eliza opened the door a small crack to peek back into the room. She saw Maxwell, face red, huffing. Eliza then heard smaller, scurrying footsteps enter the room and moved her eyes to spot Grace, eyes narrowed, glancing downward. She could see Grace's eyes dart between Maxwell, the mirror and the walls. The tight frown on her lips told Eliza she was frightened. Grace began playing with her hands.

"You, you here telling me to get out!" Maxwell shouted. "You woman telling me to depart from my own house! Who does the work, Grace? I do! You just sit around all day with your knitting and trifles!"

"Yes, Maxwell." Grace nodded. Eliza couldn't believe it. Here Maxwell was, yelling at his wife, when he was the one who's eyes were doing the wandering. And there was Grace, the strong, independent woman she was, submitting to him, apologizing, when she should, in fact, be the one yelling.

It was at this moment when Maxwell eyes drifted to the mirror. His dark eyes widened, his mouth turned to a frown. His face, if possible, grew even redder. As he clenched and unclenched his fists by his side, Eliza waited edgily for the moment when his anger might strike.

Kahlen, bags under her arms, walked into the empty, large kitchen. She set the grocery bags down heavily on the table. They landed with a _thump. _Kahlen was going to begin rifling through the bags for some dinner, but her goal was abruptly halted when she spotted a can of coffee falling from one of them. She scooped it up, wandering casually over to the coffee maker placed next to the sink. Pouring the grains in and filling it with water, Kahlen felt grateful that Greer had a couple friends in the area who were all too willing to set up the furniture and things before they got there. Apparently, though, most of the furniture in the bedrooms were left by the former tenants. As the coffee maker gurgled, Kahlen chose to gaze out the window behind the sink. It was overlooking the woods. She could have enjoyed the view, but, unlike what Kahlen told Jay, she preferred to watch the action of the town, cars, people. The woods didn't do anything. They sat there. The trees sat there. It'd be fun to wander around in them, yes, but to stare at them? It wasn't Kahlen's thing. The coffee pot sloshed again, snapping Kahlen out of her state. She looked at it, observing the dark liquid in the pot. Had she really been spacing out for that long? It was already done…

Kahlen heard footsteps creaking along the stairs as she removed a random coffee mug from the cabinet, the coffee guzzling into it. After putting a couple of cubes of sugar and a pinch of cream, she wandered over to the table, and, unfolding the newspaper, collapsed into a chair. Greer entered the room at that moment, ruffling his wet hair. Kahlen glanced up.

"Thanks for…" She wiped a hand across her forehead. "Splashing me." Greer shrugged at this. He sat down across from Kahlen as she continued to read over the newspaper. She looked up at him.

"Are you, like, waiting for me to make dinner? I'll start it when the kids get back."

"No." Greer answered, still looking at Kahlen.

"Oookay." Kahlen drew out in response, taking a chug of her coffee and returning her eyes to the paper. Greer sighed inwardly. He glanced uncomfortably around the room.

"So, I ran into Leila at the store today." Greer casually mentioned.

"Leila?!" Kahlen exclaimed, her eyes darting from the paper. "What is she doing here?"

Greer's cheeks grew redder. "Don't act surprised, Kahlen. She _lives _here and you knew that."

Kahlen was staring at the newspaper once again. "What are you talking about, Greer?" She questioned listlessly.

"She told me _everything_, Kahlen! I know that you and her have been speaking for the past two years!"

Kahlen kept her eyes glued to the paper. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Greer felt his composure starting to slip away, but he gritted his teeth, holding his anger back. "I know you tried to kill yourself."

Kahlen's expression didn't change. "Okay, Greer, one: I still have _no _idea what you're babbling about and…" Kahlen scoffed at him mockingly, "well that's pretty much all-" Before Kahlen could finish her sentence, Greer's rage escalated. He shoved back his chair, rising. He leaned over her, and, completely uncontrollable of his body at the moment, brought his hand up. Greer slapped her across the face.

Kahlen's mouth dropped open, her eyes widened. She brought her hand to her cheek and stared at Greer with shock. The expression on his face read the same as Kahlen's. Unmoving, unblinking, Kahlen's eyes remained fixed on Greer's. No words could escape from her mouth. Greer brought his arms up to his hair, pulling on it. Kahlen, her hand still to her face, rose from her seat. She started backing away slowly.

"Kahlen, no." Greer spat out. "I'm sorry." He extended his arms to reach for hers.

"Greer, I'm going to go find the kids now. And Blair. Okay?"

"Let me come-" Greer started, walking towards Kahlen. She held her hands up, continuing to back away.

"No, Greer." With that, she spun on her heal and slammed out the side door.


	7. Chapter 6: Confessions

Chapter 6 - Confessions

Blair had reached the end of the trail, which she discovered had circled them right back around to the house. Bridgette and Jay had disappeared a while ago behind her on the trail, leaving her to wander in the wilderness alone. Some aunt she was. As she walked across the luscious lawn of green grass, her feet sinking into the soft earth, she saw something on the porch. As she got closer, Blair realized that it was, in fact, her sister, slumped over the side porch railing. She was staring out at the woods to the right of the house, her hands clasped together thoughtfully raised to her chin. As Blair approached, Kahlen seemed not to notice her. Blair positioned herself next to Kahlen, feet glued to the wood porch floor. She cleared her throat.

Kahlen's head whipped to confront her. Blair stole a quick intake of breath. A barely visible purple bruise lay on Kahlen's cheekbone.

"Kahlen- what…" Blair wasn't sure what to say. She wanted to say something, but couldn't quite bring herself to. Kahlen stared back at her, a blank look on her face.

"I've been thinking." Kahlen stated plaintively, turning to stare back out at the woods. "About mom, you know?"

"Okay…" Blair motioned for Kahlen to continue. Their mother had died when Kahlen was only eight and Blair two.

"I don't know." Kahlen said, more to herself than Blair. "I mean, when we moved here, it was supposed to help me forget. Everything. And now everything's just resurfacing."

"How did you bruise yourself…?" Blair questioned, unsure of how else to respond to her sister.

"I didn't." Kahlen spat out, gazing intently into the woods as if she was actually focusing her attention on something.

"What… but-" Blair stopped in mid-sentence. She unwillingly watch a tear fall from Kahlen's cheek to the porch rail. Kahlen wiped a hand across her eyes quickly, convinced she was invincible. "Kahlen…" Blair droned out, attempting to be comforting. She couldn't even remember the last time that her sister had shed a tear. Blair stepped forward, prepared to embrace Kahlen in a what would prove to be awkward hug, but Kahlen backed up.

"I'm fine, Blair." Kahlen insisted, coming off somewhat convincible. But Blair noticed Kahlen's glassy eyes, waiting any moment Blair turned her back to break into tears. The corners of Kahlen's mouth quivered, and, the telltale sign that Kahlen was in distress, the sleeve pulling. Whenever Kahlen was nervous or upset about something, she would pull her sleeves over her hands, over and over. Just keep pulling them and grasping them there, in her half closed fist. And then she'd release them. And start yanking on them again. Over and over. It drove Blair nuts.

And Blair could see Kahlen walking down that dirt road again. The dusty, old dirt road that led nowhere. She had taken that walk four years ago. After she had pulled the plug. The first thing Kahlen had turned to was not Greer or Blair, no, the very first thing Kahlen had relied on was beer. And then wine. Every day. That turned to whisky, then vodka. There was an endless number of empty bottles at the end of the day. And then one day Kahlen broke. She had set the kitchen on fire and nearly destroyed the house. Greer put her through rehab. And Kahlen had turned around. But now it looked like she was going to take that lonely road again.

How could one day change so much? Blair asked herself, not knowing that she'd be asking many more questions in the future…

Dinner was quiet. Technically, it wasn't silent because the sound of clinking forks and knives was evident, as was the brisk chirp of Canadian crickets echoing outside the window in the waking darkness.

Bridgette kept sneaking food into her crumpled up napkin, Greer had cooked that night. It was more fun to annoy Jay, however, kicking his foot under the table every few seconds.

Jay was ready to kick his sister's foot back, but somehow, he couldn't muster up the effort. He had been out exploring the acreage behind the new house for about three hours, and it wasn't all just a walk in the park. His knees were sore, and he kept bending out his legs, shivering at the crack his knees made. As he shoveled another forkful of underdone rice into his mouth, he noticed his aunt looking quite nervous. Her eyes kept darting up, from Kahlen to Greer, and back down to be glued to her plate.

Blair cleared her throat again. Greer and Kahlen hadn't looked up from their plate once yet. An awkward silence had hovered for seven minutes already. But suddenly a loud, persistent jingle disturbed the silence. Everyone jumped a bit in their seats, including Bridgette, who removed a cell phone quickly from her pocket. Greer looked up for the first time, narrowing his eyes at her. It was the known "no phone at the dinner table" stare. In reply, Bridgette rolled her eyes. She pushed her chair back from the table and flipped open her phone.

Expected to get yelled at for leaving the table for a call, Bridgette almost halted. But when she looked back, her father and mother seemed to be lost deep in the pork cutlets.

"Hello?" Bridgette answered, barely above a whisper. She hated when people could hear her conversations. Turning the corner, she sat down on the staircase.

"Bridge?" Answered a familiar voice.

"Well, duh, you called _my _phone, Gretchen!" She replied sarcastically to her friend.

"Oh, right."

"What's up with you?"

"Nothing. Boring here. Sabrina's in the hospital again."

Bridgette's heart sunk. Her best friend, Sabrina, who she had known since she was two, had been in and out of the hospital many times in her life because of her weight.

"Will she be okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. She just passed out again because of her diabetes."

"Oh."

"So…"

"So what?"

"So how's life in Canada?"

"I've only been here for six hours."

"Well, how is it?"

"Cold."

"So's Connecticut."

"Colder."

"Well, someone's not on the chatty side today. Sabrina said she would call you when she got out. Keep your phone on."

"Thanks."

"Send me postcards."

"I'm not on vacation, Gretch, I live here."

"So? You can still send me postcards."

"Goodbye, Gretchen!"

"Fine, bye!"

"Bye!"

"Mom, what happened to your face?" Jay suddenly burst out in mid-chew. Kahlen looked up at him.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Jay." Was all she said, sticking her fork into a piece of pork. Jay swallowed dramatically.

"What did you do?" Jay questioned again as his mother lifted her glass of wine. Kahlen refrained from responding.

"Mom?"

"Nothing, Jay, now would you finish your food?" She said persistently, downing half of the glass. Blair narrowed her eyes, shooting the look towards her sister. Kahlen caught it and glared back. "One glass of wine won't put me in an institution, Blair." She rasped.

Blair shrugged, staring into her own drink. Bridgette returned to the table in silence.

"What did I tell you about leaving the table for a call?" Greer spoke his first words at the table yet as Bridgette sat down.

"It was like, two minutes, Dad. Gosh."

Kahlen looked up at Bridgette. "Who was it?"

Bridgette stuck her fork into the pile of rice. "Gretchen." She mumbled.

"Oh? How about Sabrina? Didn't she say she would call you?" Kahlen questioned, chewing thoughtfully on her piece of meat.

"Yeah. After she gets out of the hospital." Bridgette sighed. She leaned back in her chair, abandoning her nearly full plate.

Kahlen swallowed. "Oh." She tried to contemplate what else to say, but she couldn't think of anything. Bridgette stared at the cracking ceiling.

"I'm not hungry."

Greer's face got red again. "Eat it, Bridge, I took the time to make it." He rasped angrily.

"Dad, I'm not hungry!" Bridgette insisted, raising her voice. Greer rose from his chair.

"Just eat it Bridgette, it can't be that damn har-"

Greer was interrupted by Kahlen heaving her chair from the table and slamming her hands on the table.

"GREER! Stop screaming at her like an animal! She's our daughter, Greer, what's wrong with you?!" Kahlen had lost her grip. She felt like for the last three hours she'd been holding on to it, but it was slipping. And now it had fallen. And she had completely lost it. Greer and her had a face off, eye to eye. Kahlen tore her gaze from him.

"Go upstairs, Bridgette, I'll wash your plate." Kahlen reassured. Bridgette raised her eyebrows at her doubtfully.

"But-"

"Go, Bridge." Kahlen turned to Jay, and, seeing that his plate was empty, grabbed it. "You too, Jay."

Jay said nothing, following close behind his sister out of the kitchen. Greer threw back his chair from the table, the kitchen table quivering as he exited in a stampede. Blair let out a breath that had been caught inside of her for the last fifteen minutes. She came up next to Kahlen with hers and Greer's plates.

"What was that all about?" Blair whispered, afraid that the house might echo her voice.

"Why are you asking me?" Kahlen rasped, scrubbing at the dishes intensely.

"I need you to tell me what the hell is going on, Kahlen. This isn't you." Blair reached forward, abruptly turning the water off. Kahlen turned in the other direction as the water stopped, letting the dish clatter noisily to the sink. "Kahlen." Blair said, almost scolding. Kahlen's back to her, there was silence as Kahlen simply shook her head.

"I..." It came out choked, as if she was struggling to produce the words through the threatening sobs rising in her throat. "I... can't."

Blair, hearing the unfamiliar strain in her sister's voice, moved to face her. Kahlen's face rested deep in the palms of her hands. "You know you can tell me anything."

"No," came back the muffled response, Kahlen unmoving from her current position. "You'll... kill him."

"What?" Blair responded in confusion. As Kahlen raised her head however, the dark bruise that lay across her cheek fell immediately upon Blair's eyes and the reluctant, bone-chilling truth crept into reality. A sharp coldness hit Blair's body like a freezing blanket of ice and her jaw barely clicked into place in order to form her astonished words.

"_No_, Kahlen." She whispered pathetically, trying to convince herself out of the harsh actuality. "Kahlen... he didn't... he didn't _hit_ you, did he?"

There was silence.

"I'm worried about him. Something's wrong."

Blair shook her head. "He _hit _you?"

Kahlen slammed her palm against the counter. "Yes, damn it, Blair, but it's not his fault. This isn't him..."

"Greer? Greer purposely hurt you?"

"Yes, but, it's... something's wrong."

Blair sealed her lips tight, bit her tongue to hold the words she wanted to scream so badly back and left the room.

As Jay's feet padded up the stairs after his raging sister, he felt a sudden sense of distress hit him. Maybe it was delayed from the strange dinner they had just had, but it was immanent and prodding like a knife into him. He wanted to be anything but alone at the moment, so when Bridgette took a sudden right at the top of the stairs instead of heading towards their rooms, he trailed close behind her.

Bridgette threw open the door to her parent's bedroom and threw on the lights as if she had a set mission. Jay followed her in a daze as she began to throw open the drawers of the armoire.

"Bridgette... what are you doing?" Jay questioned hesitantly. His sister gave no answer, continuing to rifle through clothes and personal belongings. "Bridge, seriously!"

Bridgette ceased from her searching and whipped her head around to face Jay. "Looking, okay?" A long pause of silence followed except for the sound of Bridgette's rummaging hands through various items.

"Bridge, why are you doing this?" Jay expected her to ignore him, as usual, so her immediate, almost cutting response came as a shock.

"Because, Jay! Because... something's wrong. With Mom and Dad, like they're hiding something. _She's _hiding something. He's... he's... god, Jay, I just don't know, okay? Alls I know is that we've only been here for eight hours or so and already there's this rift between Mom and Dad like when... well you were probably too young to remember..."

"No, I remember." Jay nodded. "Do you think it's true that God has a plan for everyone?"

"I guess... what do you mean?"

"Like, everything happens for a reason. Maybe... what happened to Emilie... happened for a reason."

"I'm sorry, Jay, but I refuse to believe that. You can't say when a little girl is torn away from her family it's _supposed_ to happen." Bridgette shut the drawers, defeated by the fear of what she might find.

Jay, not responding, had meandered over to the beautiful mirror that had caught his eye earlier. He gazed, captivated, at his image and felt compelled to examine every inch of visible skin. He was doing this when he first noticed the strange hue over his skin. He approached the mirror, peering more closely at his image. Now that he observed it, he noticed a light rash over his arms. He pulled his shirt collar down and discovered it was on his neck, too. The closer he looked, the more small red dots appeared. He could nearly see the red hue beneath the skin on his face, and he pulled back from the mirror in shock. He knew what this was, he knew all too well.

By the time Kahlen realized she had been holding onto the counter edge as a lifeline, her knuckles were ghostly white. She was on a raft, coming to a three way split in a river. The powerful current seemed confused, as if not knowing which way to carry her. She turned her head, could see Greer sitting alone on the couch. His head was collapsed in his hands, his anger muffled into his tired palms. Bridgette and Jay had each other, Blair had the peace of the aged forest to comfort her. Greer had no one right now, nothing. It may have been of his own consequence, but he needed someone. And so did Kahlen. She encouraged the current to bring her to him, hoping it wouldn't be a dead end.

She eased herself onto the couch, unsure of whether Greer even noticed her there. Slowly he lifted his head from his hands to look at her. His eyes followed the curves of her body as if he was first taking in the sight of her. He shook his head, opened his mouth to say something but realized that nothing would take back what had happened. He slowly reached up his hand and traced the bruise it had left on Kahlen's cheek. She flinched at his touch, but let him move his hand to slip a piece of hair off her face. He let his hand fall to her lap, and she reached for it, stroking its rough and callused surface. Kahlen let out a soft, abrupt sob at the memory of his soft, baby-skinned palm. She raised it to her lips, kissing it as if she was planting a permanent memory in his hand. For at least a minute there was an eerie silence that sat in the air.

"Oh, God!" Greer suddenly released, a sobbing roar breaking the still of the air. He took his hands away from her, suddenly afraid that the slightest touch of his fingers would leave a scar. His head returned to his hands, and he let out a loud sob. "How could I do this to you!?" He screamed, unable to control himself. The mood quickly traveled to Kahlen, who began to sob also. She moved to him, rubbing his back in slow, comforting circles. She collapsed into his shoulder, her cries muffled.

"I love you, Greer." She managed between sobs, her hand clutching and grasping his shirt.

Greer raised his head from his hands, kissing the top of her head. She rose her face to his, barely able to see through the thick streams of tears clouding her vision. He gently placed his hand on the unharmed side of her face, softly kissing her lips. Greer kissed her forehead, and as she pulled her face away from his, he suddenly had a desire for every part of her, something he had been unfamiliar with for quite a long time now. His eyes caught hers and he gave her lips another kiss, moving down to kiss her chin, her neck, letting his lips glide over her collarbone and down her chest as she clutched his head to her breasts. She ran her fingers through his short hair, stroking the scruff of his back neck. His fingers hooked through her belt loops, he kissed her stomach, laying his head gently on it. He lifted his head up, moving his fingers to tenderly stroke her stomach. "I miss her." He whispered. Kahlen nodded, lying her own hand upon her stomach, caressing it as if to rub away the hollowness she felt inside.

"Me too." Her voice cracked.


End file.
